The next day I only had one class, and then I had to go to work. Even though I didn’t get paid to work at the halfway house, it was my mom’s pet project, and I kept her commitment to it alive in order to honor her memory.
I didn’t need to get paid, either. I mean, no one at Goldshire was short on money. Besides, Bricks had done a lot of good for a lot of the local teenage runaways. It wasn’t just a building for them to spend the night in; it was a place of sanctuary where they could sit with other kids, eat a hot meal, and sleep knowing that no harm would come to them. At least that’s what my mother had always said.
If only the same had held true for her.
It didn’t even seem possible that she could have been killed while volunteering at Bricks that night. I was there working with her, and there was at least a half-dozen kids there that night for a meal and a warm bed. The doors were always kept locked unless someone had a visitor, and even then it was by keyed-entry only. Everyone that was there that night was questioned by the police, and when no evidence that any sort of foul play had been found my mother’s death was ruled a suicide.
But I had known from the moment I found her lying on the cold floor of that storage closet that she hadn’t killed herself. Both of her wrists had been slit, and the suicide note was tucked loosely between her fingers.
And while I’m not a medical expert, a couple of things didn’t add up.
I’m not sure how long it takes someone to bleed out, but the fact that my mother’s apparent suicide note had no blood on it whatsoever despite it being all around her body stuck me as odd. I’d done a great deal of research into what happened when someone slit their wrists. And from the documents I read through, that note shouldn’t been tainted in it. But, it was completely clean.
Odd, right?
There was another odd thing, though. Something that the police still couldn’t explain, despite ruling her death as a suicide: and that was the utensil used to slit her wrists. The coroner ruled that it had be some sort of sharp, smooth-edged knife. But, there was none to be found on her body. Nowhere around her. Nowhere beside her. Nowhere in her pockets. Nada.
If Mom had slit her wrists, shouldn’t the knife have simply… been there?
Either way, I have blamed myself every single day since her death for not going back there to check on her sooner. For not knocking on the door when I thought for the first time that she had been gone for a while. And after I found her body, most of those kids didn’t return to the halfway house again after that night. I can’t say that I blamed them. Who would want to go back to a place that someone had died in?
Only one of those kids ended up crossing paths with me again A kid by the name of Adam.
And he was somewhat of an enigma.
At the time, Adam had been homeless, and even though he was technically an adult since he had just turned 21, my mother let him in any way. She said he was still “young enough” to deserve our help. I wasn’t sure of Adam’s backstory, other that he didn’t have any parents or family and that he had been on the streets since graduating high school.
But, the look in his eye every time he looked at me told of grizzly tales and secrets his lips would never speak of.
I remembered him because he stood out from anyone else that I had seen around there. He had medium-length spiky black hair and dark eyes, and a nose piercing that had a silver ring dangling from his nostril. And those eyes. Those brooding, shadowed, almost blackish kind of eyes. They stuck with me just as much as my mother’s dead stare.
And it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I saw him again at Goldshire.
He was there on some diplomatic council meeting with Michael, a complete asshole and the son of the Headmistress of Lineage. Adam had been wearing a Lineage jacket, but aside from that, he still looked like the punk indie-guy that I remembered him as. I had no idea what he was doing at my school or how he had managed to get into Lineage. Going from being homeless to attending Lineage would have simply been impossible. And I was planning on asking him after the meeting. But as soon as their meeting was over, he and Michael were quickly ushered off campus. Adam had seen me, too, though. Just as he was walking out, he had turned and looked right at me.
And that same dark stare found my gaze once more.
I guess I shouldn’t have been that surprised when I saw him walk into the halfway house while I was working later that same week. I think my shock came mostly from just seeing a face that I hadn’t seen since the night of my mother’s death. Still, his voice startled me when it sounded in my ear.
“You really should keep that door locked,” Adam said as he walked in.
I was all alone in the building since most of the kids didn’t come in until it got closer to dinnertime. I hadn’t kept the door locked since mom died. I just didn’t feel like I was scared of anything anymore.
I set the broom against the wall, giving myself something to do other than shriek.
“It’s Adam, right?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“I remember you,” I said. “And I saw you at my school a few weeks ago.” I noticed his jacket again and motioned my hand toward it. “So, you’re a Lineage student now, huh? The jacket looks nice on you.”
He chuckled and then took the jacket off to hang over the back of a chair. Wow, I guess I hadn’t noticed his body before.
It was kind of nice, for a Lineage boy.
“Thanks,” he said. “Although I’m not sure I fit in there very well.” He flicked his nose ring with his finger. “I get told just about every day to take this piercing out. They haven’t gotten me to do it yet, though.”
I laughed at that. Lineage was notorious for conformity. I bet he was really testing the patience of some of the faculty there. He walked in closer to me, so I offered him a seat to sit and talk.
“So how did you manage to get into Lineage?” I asked. “I mean, no offense, but it’s pretty impossible unless you have family that’s alumni there.”
“The guy I was with when I came to your school got me in,” he answered. “Michael.”
I inadvertently made a face at the mention of Michael's name, which made Adam laugh again.
“I guess you’re not a fan of his,” he joked.
“How exactly did that work?” I asked, ignoring his comment. “I didn’t think you could just bring random people into admissions.”
“You ask a lot of questions,” he said.
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of a thing with me.”
The shadow of a grin ticked his cheek. “Michael’s mom is the headmistress there, and supposedly there’s some clause in their admissions policy that says an existing student can sponsor your admission if there’s a strong relationship. Like if someone gets adopted or becomes someone’s girlfriend or stuff like that.”
“Wait, so you were either adopted by Michael’s mom, or you became his girlfriend?” I teased.
